Gibbs' Golden Girl
by Mindy35
Summary: KIBBS. Life as Gibbs knows it is under threat.


Title: Gibbs' Golden Girl

Author: MindyHarmon

Rating: G

Disclaimer: These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No Copyright infringement is intended.

Spoilers: "Reveille"

Summary: Kibbs. Life as Gibbs knows it is under threat.

A/N: Inspired by the coffee house scene in "Reveille" which has be to one of the best Kate/Gibbs scenes ever.

* * *

He had to find out for sure.

He couldn't just trust his gut on this one. He had to look her in the eyes and make sure she wouldn't lie to him, wouldn't abandon him.

He'd told her once that eyes can lie. But hers couldn't to him -- he knew it and so did she.

He needed to have her alone. He was not going to talk about this at the office with her; they needed neutral territory. An ambush was necessary and he would come baring gifts — hot, sweet coffee, just the way she liked it.

He stepped up to the counter, ordering his and hers coffee to go from the smiley assistant, and absently handed over his money, tuning out the hum of the busy coffee house around him.

He'd been so proud of her when she'd cracked that case.

They'd all been working hard at it, in close, if competitive, cooperation with the FBI, when Kate had come to him with a novel idea.

Never one to dismiss the validity of a hunch, especially from the group of gifted agents he'd hand-picked and surrounded himself with, he'd allowed her to go with her gut, follow her lead, without much thought as to where it might end up. He certainly hadn't banked on this happening.

Her hunch had turned out to be a stroke of genius and he'd watched quietly from the sidelines as she'd become the toast of D.C., lauded by NCIS, the FBI and every news program on air. They'd all wanted her statement, an exclusive interview, her face on their bulletin. The high-profile case had made her NCIS' celebrated poster girl.

The FBI had grudgingly acknowledged her importance in solving the case. NCIS had loved her for putting them on the political map. Tony had teased her mercilessly, of course, everyone that used to know her wanted to know her again, and every man (and a few women) at NCIS wanted to date 'Gibbs' golden girl' as he kept hearing her referred to around the office, with an odd mixture of annoyance, protectiveness and pride.

While they weren't the words he'd used in his own mind, they did have a nice ring to them; and he had to admit he had long thought of her as something very similar, ever since he'd discovered her and revived her suddenly sinking career.

Kate had taken it all with a grain of salt, of course, seemingly far more pleased with his few words of congratulations than with all the praise and hype. She remained level-headed, became even shy, which he'd never seen before, and eventually started to weary of all the extra attention.

Things had been calming down around the office, the fallout and paper work from the case was coming to a welcome end and everything was going back to normal.

Gibbs liked normal. He liked the way things were; he liked his and his team's unpredictable and hectic routine – which is why he was apprehensive about the Director wishing to speak with him. And suddenly, normal – life as he knew it – was again under threat, worse than before.

Director Morrow had said he understood Gibbs' special attachment to the agents he trained and worked with – he'd even referred to Kate as his 'golden girl'; making him suspect that the nickname had been circulating the office much longer than the past few wild weeks.

Then he'd dropped the bombshell that the Secret Service wanted his Katie back.

After stupidly accepting her resignation, the Director of the Secret Service had personally phoned Director Morrow, with the blessing of the President, to request her back, to reinstate her position with the presidential detail, or discuss any assignment she nominated.

Morrow said they'd approached Agent Todd about returning but that she'd refused immediately. The other man had fixed him with a narrowed gaze and said that they'd _implied_ that Agent Todd had been under some pressure to decline.

Gibbs was able to deny absolutely that he'd exerted any influence over Kate's decision, as he'd not even known about the job offer. She hadn't mentioned it at all, he'd said.

Morrow was not in the habit of bowing to beaurocratic pressure, or of handing good people over to other agencies, but he told Gibbs to reiterate the offer to his subordinate, in an open and honest manner. And to have her report her decision to him in due time.

Thinking about it logically, Gibbs could take comfort from the fact that she'd turned them down once.

Still -- the Secret Service had been her first choice of career and Kate was an ambitious and practical woman. She had to see how good an offer this was for her. Not only did it put her career back on track, but it reinstated her dignity and standing in their field.

When he had offered it to her, she'd jumped at the job at NCIS, not really knowing what she was in for. _Then,_ she hadn't had much choice. Now, she did.

He knew she found the work at NCIS stimulating, and he knew how very much a part of their team she'd become in the time that she'd worked with them -- not just professionally.

He also knew she felt some kind of obligation to please him, to prove him right for his faith in her – but he didn't want her staying out of obligation or foolish pride.

He wanted her there only if her heart was in it.

And that's what he had to find out.

He collected the two tall coffee cups and headed out the door. Like himself, Kate was a creature of habit and if he hurried, he would catch her before she ordered her coffee at the place down the street. Which meant he had approximately three minutes to figure out what exactly he intended to say to her.

-xxxxxx-

"Okay, I admit, he might have been hot in "Top Gun"…"

Kate grinned as her friend ranted at her on the phone she had pressed to her ear, while her eyes focused on the screen above the counter where the coffees were being made.

"…but that was, like, twenty years ago. The man is so obviously having a mid-life crisis!"

"Liz," she replied, levelly: "you're so cynical – maybe they're really in love."

Her friend snorted over the line as they simultaneously watched the glowing couple on screen surrounded by clambering photographers snog unashamedly against the backdrop of a foreign city.

"Augh!" commented Liz of the display, as her baby screamed in the background.

"Come on! -- a lot of women find older men very attractive," Kate told her friend, reaching for her purse as the line for a decent caffeine fix finally moved.

"Oh, I see," Liz hummed amusedly: "You're so transparent! Just because you have an incredibly inappropriate crush on an old guy who likes to call _you_ 'Katie'--"

"Hey-hey-hey-hey!" Kate reprimanded, her voice rising and her finger wagging in the air like her friend was right in front of her, not halfway across town. "I do not have a crush!"

She snorted again and Kate continued, with less vehemence:

" – and anyway I told you that in _complete_ _confidence_."

"So I can never mention it again?" giggled Liz in response to her outrage.

"Exactly – and besides," she muttered: "…I'd hardly call Gibbs an 'old guy'."

"What _would_ you call him, Kate?" she taunted suggestively.

Kate could think of plenty of adjectives for her boss, all of which would be embarrassing if repeated aloud.

"….And he _never_ calls me 'Katie'..." she mumbled, just incidentally.

"Uh huh…" commented Liz as though she wasn't fooling anyone.

Kate looked down, examining the tiles under foot: "…well, almost never."

"Morning Katie," came a smooth and low voice right by her ear.

Her head snapped up, her eyes snapped closed, her face screwing up into a pained grimace as she registered immediately the unmistakable presence of Gibbs behind her. Liz cackled loudly over the phone, obviously having heard the spine-melting greeting and obviously having no sympathy whatsoever for the tight spot she'd just dropped her friend in.

Kate could feel herself flush as Gibbs slowly stepped around in front of her. She winced, dropping her eyes back to the floor and telling her friend she had to go.

She really, _really_ had to go, she insisted, feeling Gibbs' smug grin burning into the skin of her forehead.

God, if he wasn't who he was she would throttle him one of these days for that annoying little stealthy invasion game he loved to play.

"I'm hanging up…" she told her friend, as Liz continued to taunt her.

Her eyes climbed up to meet Gibbs' gaze and with a decisive action, she disconnected her cell. Well….now they were alone, in their little bubble.

She blinked a few times and rolled her lips inwards: "How….much of that…did you happen to hear?" she asked cringingly.

He smirked, eyes twinkling: "Just enough for you to be embarrassed."

She nodded slowly, sighed heavily, then shook her head at the floor.

Meeting eyes that were examining and deconstructing her every move, she bravely tried to dismiss her disgrace and flicked her eyes at the coffee he held.

"That for me?" she questioned, coolly as she could.

He raised an eyebrow at her: "_This one's_ for you."

He held out and she accepted the hot cup, never dropping his gaze though his expression still exhibited the amusement he felt at once again managing to catch her saying something entirely inappropriate. Despite the deep mortification she felt, she refused to show it.

He put out a hand to the side: "After you…"

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously before stepping forward and past him, leading them towards a table of her choosing, Gibbs following close behind. She could feel him tracing her figure as she moved, and his observance didn't end when she turned, pulled up a chair and faced him across the little table.

She sat still and erect under his inscrutable gaze, and slowly a smile stretched across her lips.

So….the game was afoot, she guessed.

She liked this game. She liked playing it with _him_.

It was rare that he expected anything from her other than good work and absolute dedication. And she didn't mind admitting that she _really liked_ it when he wanted something more. She liked watching him try and get it.

She hadn't liked the game at first.

When they'd first met, she'd watched with distrust, annoyance and tightly restrained fury as he'd tried all the methods he could think of to get around her, to wheedle her, to swindle her, to catch her off-balance.

It was only later that she realized how much fun she'd been having with him – and him with her. It had only been later that she began to realize how exhilarating and thoroughly addictive it was to be at the centre of this particular man's attention.

To be seen as a challenge to him, to be seen as a worthy opponent, to be looked upon with that unique blend of amusement and admiration was a natural high she'd never experienced before.

She took a sip of the coffee he'd brought for her – he'd remembered the milk and sweetener, and by now she'd become used to taking it this strong.

"Strong's better," he'd told her with a challenging leer, the last time they'd played this game together.

He'd not been talking about coffee and she knew it.

Gibbs liked his women strong – and right then, he'd been seeing her as a woman. Another addictive and exhilarating rarity.

His words had been a compliment on her own strength and how he appreciated it – but had also acted as a red flag, to let her know that the games had begun. She'd known then she'd need all her strength, wits and smarts in order to compete.

And now she was in for another round.

She watched him watching her, comfortable now with his scrutiny, or at least, accustomed to it. She schooled her body language towards calmness, her countenance to neutralness. He had her under a microscope already and he hadn't even said a word. But even pinned and edgy – there was no place she'd rather be. There was something very exciting about never knowing what he was going to say.

She waited patiently for him to bring up whatever was on his mind, whatever was going to be the setting for their current battle of wits.

This charming, considerate Gibbs, who brought her coffee and acted the gentleman, might have thrown her last time, but, however flattering, she knew it wouldn't last – it was just another tactic.

She leaned in, one elbow resting on the table, her hand cupping her cheek, deciding to make the first move herself:

"So….what are we discussing today, Gibbs?"

He took a deep breath as she spoke, and leaned in also. His eyes dropped and watched her mouth form her words.

God, he could be so blatant sometimes, she thought. Her mouth curled up involuntarily… she loved it.

If any of her previous bosses had looked at her the way Gibbs was presently doing, and had done on more than one other occasion, she would have been disgusted, offended and aggravated beyond belief. But she had never been so comfortable with being seen as an attractive woman as when Gibbs chose to see her that way. Despite the fact of how inappropriate they both knew it to be.

She glanced just as lingeringly at his lips, then quirked her brow expectantly: 'I'll see your stare and I'll raise you an eyebrow,' she thought, cheekily.

He smiled at her thoughtfully, and leant back in his chair again, putting some distance between them.

Examining her coolly, he finally spoke: "I heard about your job offer."

She flinched, she knew she did -- she hadn't expected that, and she hadn't expected him to just come out with it like that.

So that's what this was about. She'd had a feeling she hadn't heard the last of it. But how did _he_ know?...

She really shouldn't be surprised, she supposed, what with his knack for finding out stuff.

"They took it to Director Morrow," he continued, implacably, watching her closely. "They must really want you back," he nodded slowly with his words then took a long sip of coffee.

She dropped her eyes briefly, letting him wait for just a moment. It was so rare that she had his full attention; she intended to make the most of it.

She was rather surprised he was taking this offer so seriously. And as she knew there was nothing for him to be concerned about, she didn't see the harm in a little tease. At the same time, she was aware that he only allowed her this brief power rush because he knew he would get out of her what he wanted in the end.

She gave him a closed-lipped smile and met his gaze again: "I'm not available," she shrugged, slightly, her eyes holding his.

"I wouldn't be offended if you considered the offer," he said evenly, squinting into the distance for a moment, then turning his eyes back on her, adding: "You'd be nuts not to."

She smiled a little: "Must be nuts then." It was a total no-brainer for her; she didn't have to consider anything. She held his eyes as they searched hers for any signs of disloyalty. "It's not an option for me," she told him, resolutely.

Apart from the work, the friends, the life she'd found at NCIS, she was starting to believe that it was absolutely impossible for her to disappoint this man, to say no to him, to not care about his opinion of her.

"You sure?" he muttered into the plastic lid of his coffee cup, his gaze narrowed at some place over her shoulder -- and for just a moment, she saw a flicker of the pain he felt at the possibility of her departure.

Dropping all defensiveness, all game-playing for a moment, she took a breath and leaned in to assure him, with her most sincere voice: "Gibbs….I'll be the first to admit that NCIS is never where I envisaged myself or my career," she paused, as his eyes met hers again and locked: "But I know it's where I belong."

Gibbs seemed to relax a little and leaned in again, no longer keeping his distance: "Just wanted to hear it from your lips," he smiled, his voice low and pleased.

She smiled warmly in return, eyes scanning the unusual and ripe face she'd come to know and read so well. She'd really had him worried, she realized incredulously; she'd actually had him rather alarmed.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and spoke very slowly, her voice rich with amazement, with triumph: "You thought I'd leave."

It wasn't so much a question, as a revelation.

He smiled suddenly, ducking his head and looking down, both amused by her overly-pleased expression and embarrassed by the perceived weakness she'd discovered in him.

He looked at her again, smile still firmly in place: "I'd hoped not,' he admitted candidly.

Her smile grew and they simply stared at each other for a charged moment across the short expanse of table, while the world buzzed about them.

"…I hate training up newbies," Gibbs shrugged, lackadaisically.

She grinned and screwed up her nose at him: "Sure," she murmured, mockingly.

'Game Over' she mused inwardly, as the unwavering connection between the two of them flared perceptibly and burned brightly for a moment in shared silence. She found herself recalling that old saying that it didn't matter who won or lost, it was how you played the game that mattered.

She had a strange feeling that in each other they'd each met their match.

And she knew she just had to be present for the next round of Gibbs' games -- and the next and the next and next. The fact that he wanted her to be made her firmer still in her resolve.

It was very gratifying to have actual proof of his regard for her. He was not a man who bestowed compliments readily – which made them doubly prized when they were given. And while she'd always known she had his professional backing and respect, what she'd seen a flash of in his eyes was that in some way she, Kate Todd, held a deep personal value to him as more than simply agent or colleague.

She didn't know how deeply it ran in him, and possibly never would; but it made her feel like she'd won this round -- won everything -- to have won a small place in this extraordinary man's heart.

-xxxxxx-

He placed his hand lightly on the small of her back as they exited the coffee house together and headed towards work.

"The Director wants you to deliver your decision to him when you're ready," he told her, leaning in close.

She looked up at him and nodded smartly: "No problem."

It was shame in a way, he thought, as they strode side by side down the busy DC street. A great shame.

Gibbs was a man who'd felt a great many things for a great many women. But there was something singular about this one, he knew – he'd known it from the moment she'd put her hand in his and grasped tightly.

And while he was relieved to have her assurance that she was committed to being a member of his valued team; while he was pleased he would continue to see and work with her everyday; while he was glad his trust in her was not unwarranted; still – it had occurred to him, in the short time that he felt her future at NCIS in doubt, that if Kate Todd was a Secret Service agent she would no longer be off limits to him.

As long as she was NCIS and in his command, he would have to keep his distance. He had vowed it to himself emphatically.

It had been her decision to make and his to honour. He'd known in his gut what she would choose and knew that this was best for her, whatever possibilities it might rule out for _them._

But -- if she _had_ chosen to transfer back to the Secret Service, there would've been nothing stopping him calling her number and asking her out to dinner. And he had a feeling she wouldn't say 'no'.

Personal experience had taught him to be wary of relationships founded, developed and conducted in a high-stress arena, such as the one they inhabited. But he couldn't help wondering if two such compatible personalities as his and Kate's had proven to be could somehow make it work.

He couldn't help feeling that if she were a different girl in a different job, he might be waking up to his golden girl every morning – and he might know what it meant to be fulfilled.

But he didn't want a different girl – he wanted this one. He wanted the girl who surprised him everyday at work with her energy, her tenacity and her unfailing integrity. He wanted the girl who loved her job every bit as much as he did.

And therein lay the incredible shame of it all.

He glanced side-on at her profile as she walked beside him in comfortable silence.

Yes, things could go back to normal now and a part of him was very relieved.

Gibbs liked normal -- but he also had to wonder, if there might possibly be something better. Something more.

So, maybe someday, he thought; he might just make that phone call anyway. And maybe – just maybe – if he was a very lucky man, Kate would give him the chance to find out _for sure_ what that something more might be.

* * *


End file.
